


Touch my mouth and hold my tongue...

by poedaaaayumeron



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Thorin, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Top!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poedaaaayumeron/pseuds/poedaaaayumeron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It was a long time coming, their eventual coupling. At least that was the opinion most of the company had about Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield. And perhaps, if Thorin had seized his chance earlier, things would have worked out very differently for him. Not that the dwarf would truly complain, even if he did grouse about it from time to time...</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch my mouth and hold my tongue...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ColorThroughMyEyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorThroughMyEyes/gifts).



> My fic for the lovely ColorThroughMyEyes who won me in the AO3 Charity Auction! She asked for mouthy, bossy Bilbo showing Thorin who's really in charge, and I hope I delivered!
> 
>  **EDIT:** bottom!Bilbo fans are giant babies tbqh lmao

It was a long time coming, their eventual coupling. At least that was the opinion most of the company had about Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield. And perhaps, if Thorin had seized his chance earlier, things would have worked out very differently for him. Not that the dwarf would truly complain, even if he did grouse about it from time to time.

As it was, they had reached Lake-town, nearly in the shadow of the proud dwarf’s lost kingdom and only a few weeks away from reclaiming it. Caught up in the revelries of finally reaching this milestone, making it out of Mirkwood alive and more or less unscathed, he grabbed the hobbit by his lapels and dragged him into an attack of a kiss. He was high on the wanton lust of a conqueror as he pulled Bilbo through the portal of his bedchambers. Though the halfling opened up to him, the creature did not yield, little fists rising to grab handfuls of hair at the back of Thorin’s head, mussing his braids and yanking his head back.

The door slammed as the king growled and there was the retched sound of Bilbo’s coat seams splitting. There was a surprisingly ferocious answering snarl from his small would-be lover and Thorin was brought to his knees by the vicious twist of hands in his hair.

“ _No you don’t,_ ” the hobbit scolded, and for several moments the dwarf’s ferocity fled his entire being. When he lifted his gaze to Bilbo’s, he found he couldn’t hold eye contact for long. Thorin felt something prickle in his gut at the forced submission, and he made to rise once more. The hands gripping his hair held fast, only wringing the fistfuls of hair even harder and the king was forced to stare up at Bilbo with stinging eyes.

The halfling, seemingly pleased with Thorin’s vague submission for the moment, glanced down at his coat with a tut, observing his nearly destroyed coat. “This was my favourite coat,” Bilbo stated, clicking his tongue as he turned his intense gaze back on the king at his feet, tension fairly snapping visibly between them. “I will not have you ruining my things so you can have one off. Now remove my clothes properly, and if you tear another seam, you _will be sorry_.”

They stared at each other for several more long moments, neither moving as Bilbo’s fingers remained in Thorin’s mane, the dwarf’s heavy breathing the only sound in the room. The more conscious part of his mind was furious at the audacity of this tiny creature, this nobody from the west that _dared_ to make him kneel like a common dwarf. Yet the swift filling of his cock told another story. Narrowing his eyes, he focused on his waning rage and glared up at Bilbo.

“Well then, start with the trousers. I’m not letting you up until you prove yourself to be civil about this,” Bilbo ordered, eyes narrowing just as much. When those fingers twisted even harder, Thorin actually hissed as he felt several strands being yanked out at the root. His eyes stung even more, screwed shut as they were, and he tried to arch back to ease the agony in his scalp. Gasping out when Bilbo wrenched his head to the side, Thorin lifted his hands to the ties of the hobbit’s trousers and carefully untied them, after unclipping the man’s bracers.

“That’s it,” that deceptively soothing voice above him cooed, and the fingers loosened, but did not release him completely. They stayed there in his hair, a dark promise to deliver that vicious pain should he misbehave again. Despite the anger rolling in his gut, Thorin slowly eased Bilbo’s trousers off, the garment quickly followed by the hobbit’s smallclothes. Bilbo’s half-hard cock sprung slightly to meet him, and with rapt attention, Thorin watched as it slowly filled under his gaze.

“Oh, that is an interesting expression,” Bilbo murmured, and when the dwarf finally managed to drag his eyes away from the sight of Bilbo’s prick, he saw there as amusement and cunning in those hazel depths. Thorin almost shivered, and made a move to pull away when those fingers twisted slightly. The king instantly froze, mouth falling open slightly and his anger boiling once more. “Do you want to suck it?”

“I am a _king_ ,” Thorin snarled, but the hobbit only laughed.

“Anybody can suck cock, Thorin Oakenshield,” the halfling whispered, coaxing the dwarf forward until his lips were being nudged apart by the head of Bilbo’s member, “even kings.”

The bitterness of Bilbo’s precome seeped in through the partially open seam of the dwarf’s lips, the flavor of it splashing across his palette and sending a spike of arousal into his loins. This was terrible and wrong, though he had speared many former lovers’ mouths. He’d never had a partner contest his rank, never knew someone to hold him down like this. There was a brief flash of something that shivered through him and Bilbo loosened his grip.

“I will let you go to finish what you started,” Bilbo said, pulling his erection away from Thorin’s lips, and when the dwarf made an aborted attempt at chasing it, the hobbit smirked. “Behave.”

Thorin lingered on the floor, even once his hair was released and was slow to climb to his feet. Inwardly shaking himself, the dwarf reached out to the hobbit and shoved tattered coat of his shoulders, next he worked on the one brass button left on the creature’s waistcoat, and then pushed each purl button through its eyelet. The halfling shrugged the garments off before lifting his hands to remove Thorin’s clothing, eyes narrowing at each new layer he had to work through. The king would have laughed if he hadn’t been so distracted by the plump body that had been bared to his eyes.

He moved when prompted by the hobbit, his hunger growing by the second, his mouth filling with saliva while he eyed the lovely feast before him. As he stepped out of the puddle of his trousers and smalls at his feet, Thorin growled and bent to retrieve a flask of oil from his pocket before rising to kiss the halfling. Once again, Bilbo opened to him, hands lifting to hold the dwarf’s mighty biceps. It wasn’t long before Thorin had forgotten himself again and had his arms around the hobbit and hauling him bodily to the bed. For the moment, Bilbo moaned at this and allowed it, legs lifting to hitch around the dwarf’s waist, making the walk to the mattress just a little bit easier.

Thorin threw the hobbit down and climbed up after him, and as the halfling worked his way up onto his elbows to meet him, the dwarf smirked and flipped him onto his plump tummy, hands grabbing at his perfectly round arse and levering the mounds open to appraise his sweet hole.

There was another shockingly vicious growl, and Thorin was falling forward against the duvet as the hobbit slipped out from beneath him. The creature was incredibly agile for something so plump and apparently lazy. Before the dwarf could even react, he felt the hot press of Bilbo’s cock slide into the cleft of his arse and the hot line of the hobbit’s torso covering his back. One hand found its way back into the king’s hair and returned to twisting the raven locks with agonizing tightness. Letting out a pitiful gasp, Thorin hissed when the halfling wrenched him so that he turned his face out of the duvet. Out of the corners of his eyes, he looked up at the hobbit in stunned silence. His thighs burned as they spread further apart on the bed to accommodate the halfling’s shorter stature and effectively making it easier for Bilbo to align his pelvis with Thorin’s arse. The king was mortified at his subconscious reaction to the press of Bilbo’s body against his rear.

“You seem surprised,” Bilbo mocked, eyes narrowing at him. “I’ve wrestled orcs and giant spiders, I’ve killed a warg and saved your sorry arse too many times to count. I am stronger than I look and I refuse to let a spoiled, selfish _brute_ topple and take me as if I were a simpering maiden.”

When Thorin growled, the sound devolved into a sharp gasp when the hand in his hair yanked even harder. His cock was rigid and leaking between his thighs, dripping down onto the bed and his mind spun. There was a thick haze of arousal falling over his mind, muddling his thoughts, and vaguely he registered the halfling pulling away slightly, and he saw Bilbo’s free hand grab the flask of oil that Thorin had dropped, but he didn’t realize what exactly was happening until he felt the cold splash of liquid pour down the cleft of his arse. Gasping, Thorin bucked, but Bilbo held fast to his hair, and the press of fingertips to his hole froze the king.

“Have you ever done this?” Bilbo asked, his tone a touch softer as he pressed at the rim of puckered flesh, but did not enter. Each ministration sent jolts of pleasure through the king, though he growled in an attempt to cover it up.

“Of course not,” he bit out, eyes narrowing in a glare that was completely ruined by the way his face fell slack when Bilbo pushed the first short digit in.

“That seems awfully arrogant,” Bilbo chuckled, and there was an edge to the sound that had Thorin’s gut doing backflips. The slight sting of the hobbit’s finger subsided quickly, or was at the very least overridden by the throbbing pain in his scalp. The shock of the sensation was slower to go away, however, the feeling of being penetrated unusual and completely foreign. It was unpleasant on its own. Before he could fully adjust however, Bilbo was already shoving in a second finger.

“I am a king,” Thorin repeated around a shattered gasp, the burning stretch of the second finger breaching him making him shiver. The stretch alone felt delicious, even if the ministrations are clinical in their movements, their only purpose to prepare. “I am not to be dominated.”

“Ah, but you see,” Bilbo said lowly, a third finger pushing past the clench of Thorin’s hole, wrenching an actual whine from the proud dwarf. “You are not _my king_ , but a mouthy, puffed up dwarf who needs to be taught humility. To be taught that just because you _want it_ , does not mean you can _take it_.”

The halfling punctuated his words with a swift jab into Thorin’s prostate and ripping a wanton sound from the dwarf. His resolve to fight this dark pleasure was crumbling as Bilbo assaulted that spot inside him, his cock drooling with precome and twitching at each sharp stab of the hobbit’s fingers. Thorin’s entrance squeezed around the hobbit’s fingers, the sensation pulling a fluttery moan from the dwarf and making his eyes roll back with pleasure.

“You intend— _ahhh!_ —to take me then, but not because you want to?” the dwarf eventually gasped out, mind fuzzy with the hot pleasure that ripped through him at each crook of the hobbit’s fingers.

“Oh, I do. But I feel I’ve earned this. As I’ve said, I have saved this lovely, hairy arse of yours far too many times to count, and I intend to indulge in it until you can barely walk,” Bilbo stated, and it would have been matter-of-fact if it hadn’t been for the tremor in his voice. The words had needy desire flashing through the dwarf, and sweat broke out across his brow and back, and he shifted his hips back onto the halfling’s fingers. A moaned slipped from the dwarf’s throat and Bilbo spread his fingers wide inside him.

Without a single word, Bilbo was withdrawing his fingers and swiping his hand through the mess of oil that had dribbled down Thorin’s back. The dwarf was gasping at the loss, the utterly overwhelming sensation of being empty after being so full reducing his mind to two damning words. “ _Fuck me_ ,” he gasped into the duvet, stunned and mortified by his desperation, by this dark and forbidden pleasure.

“I will. Up on your hands,” Bilbo ordered, tugging at the black mane in his hand, and instantly Thorin complied.

Once Thorin was propped up on his hands, back arched beautifully as Bilbo still held his hair and had the dwarf’s head pulled right back, the hobbit scooted forward. The king spread his legs even wider, despite the burn he felt, and shuddered violently as the tip of his lover’s cock nudged against his entrance. That was the only warning he received before he was swiftly impaled by his smaller lover, a startled, pleasure-pained sob tearing from his chest when Bilbo paused.

“By Eru, you are _tight_ ,” Bilbo marveled, and his hips began to snap against Thorin’s arse.

The dwarf was overwhelmed, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, his gasps and cries aimed at the steepled ceiling above them with the way his head was forced back. The cluster of hair Bilbo held was used as leverage, the scalp going nearly numb from the delicious abuse inflicted on it.

Though the hobbit didn’t reach particularly deep into Thorin’s core, the thickness of his cock more than made up for that particular lack, and his length had Bilbo nailing the dwarf’s prostate on each slide inward. The pleasure was almost painful it was so intense, Thorin’s low moans morphing into loud exultant cries as he gave himself over to it. It was far more than Thorin had ever thought it would be, somehow underestimating how wonderful it would feel to be claimed. Having his body plundered, his insides cored by the cock of his lover would be his ruin, and already before he had finished with this coupling, he was hungry for more of it.

“Just listen to you whine,” the hobbit laughed, though the sound was far from mocking. It sound stunned and pleased, and Thorin only rolled his hips back against Bilbo’s harsh thrusts.

Their fucking was animalistic, desperate and wanton, and as Thorin reached to grab his cock and bring himself off, Bilbo twisted his hand in the dwarf’s hair. “You are not to touch yourself,” Bilbo growled softly, and the king gasped.

“I need to come,” Thorin whimpered loudly, the sound humiliating, but he couldn’t be made to care too much about it at the moment. “Please, by Aulë, Bilbo, I need to!”

“Tough luck,” Bilbo groaned and thrust wildly against the dwarf’s rear, pulling all manner of pleasure-soaked sound from him. Despite everything, Thorin actually found himself obeying. He’d grown somewhat used to the pain in his scalp, and there was no way the halfling could stop him from touching himself and continue fucking him. It was completely by choice that Thorin did not finish himself, that he kept both hands firmly planted on the bed beneath him, contenting himself with short snaps back onto Bilbo’s cock.

The hobbit was panting heavily behind him, his damp breath puffing across his shoulder blades and cooling the sweat there, raising gooseflesh in its wake. Bilbo’s rhythm grew suddenly erratic, each vicious slide into Thorin’s core turning brutal as the halfling reared up onto his knees. The change shifted the angle, and now Bilbo was fully stabbing the dwarf’s pleasure spot, each savage thrust wringing cries and shouts from the proud king that could no doubt be heard by the other occupants in the rooms around them. Tears welled in his eyes at the intense build of pressure in his loins, the heat boiling his blood and melting his bones as his orgasm barreled forward.

He screamed through the cresting of his pleasure, blowing his load across the quilt and even hitting his left wrist with one thick glob. As his channel pulsed around the cock still jacking into him with a ferocity he’d never have expected from the hobbit, Thorin let out another sobbing cry, his own prick throbbing one last time.

Bilbo grunted at the tight clench around his girth, and Thorin could feel the rod inside him throb before a wet warmth flooded his body, centered around his tailbone. As the pounding at his rear stuttered to a slow stop, Thorin swallowed thickly and asked, “Can you release my hair?”

“Of course, just don’t pull off yet,” Bilbo murmured, loosing Thorin’s dark tresses and the dwarf hadn’t the energy to do anything more than drop forward onto his elbows. The hobbit rocked lightly, his softening cock sliding in and out of Thorin’s slick entrance before finally slipping out. Thorin grimaced as he felt something warm dribble down his inner thigh. “ _Oh_ , Thorin, you’re best to stay just like that.”

“Why?” the dwarf gasped, dropping his head forward against the duvet as exhaustion began to set in. He didn’t even care how disgusting he felt, or how wrecked he sounded, or even how pain was beginning to bloom in his nether regions. He’d just had the best sex in his long life, and he was too busy enjoying the afterglow to let embarrassment ruin it.

“Because, Master Dwarf, I will be ready to have you again _very soon_.”

When Thorin’s own cock twitched with interest at that, he could only nod as his own desire curled in his gut.

**FIN**


End file.
